"My mother and aunts still talk about your parents' love story. It was quite the romance in their day. The stuff of legends, to hear them discuss it."
"One that is impossible to live up to, I am afraid."
In truth, Desmond had begun to wonder if his heart would ever be amenable to something as long-lasting as his parents' love for each other. He had relished his numerous lighthearted liaisons, none of them intended to last more than a few months, which suited him and his paramours perfectly. There were no tears or recriminations on anyone's part when it was time to move on to something else.
Still, his parents' undeniable devotion, especially after his father's recent accident, had Desmond wishing for something similar for himself.
Martin's eyes twinkled momentarily. His next words made Desmond think his friend had read his thoughts. "Perhaps my matchmaking prowess will lead you to a woman who steals your heart."
"That is yet to be determined. But even if my heart remains unattached, as is likely, a man knows when it is time to take up his responsibilities to the family lineage, leaving his frolicsome youth behind."
"Frolicsome? Now you are sounding like the white-haired gent in the corner who has not moved from that spot in twenty years." Martin gave Desmond a good looking-over, as if he was examining a pair of prime race horses at Tattersall's. "I wonder who I could possibly convince to attempt a match with a scoundrel such as you."
"I am breathless with anticipation." Desmond could not hold back a smile. "Though, from your previous difficulties, I understand it may require more than one attempt before success is declared."
Martin's eyes gleamed at the unspoken challenge. "Your situation merely requires something a bit different. I think you will enjoy what I have in mind…"
Desmond stood in the lavish ballroom at Hartstone Hall, wondering if he had completely lost his wits. It had been diverting while sitting in his London club, devising a plan to find a woman he could fall in love with at some point.
But now, several days later, standing beneath a cluster of mistletoe, clutching one half of a calling card, waiting for the woman who had the other half to appear…
Yes, he had clearly misplaced his wits. Not to mention his confidence in Martin's matchmaking abilities.
Ah, well, he could at least enjoy the festivities. Martin's country estate was the center of numerous holiday events, making it the best setting for matchmaking this time of year. Every possible surface was covered with pine boughs, and holly, and of course, mistletoe hung in multiple strategic locations. To increase the mystery, Martin had decreed the ball would be a masquerade, so all of the attendees wore masks.
It was a great deal easier to steal a kiss under the mistletoe if anonymity were preserved.
Desmond adjusted his mask and glanced once more at the card. Had the mystery woman changed her mind? Martin had insisted they would be a perfect match. Perhaps she had learned his identity and decided she did not want her name linked to his in the scandal sheets.
It was difficult to convince anyone he was indeed serious about renouncing his scoundrel ways. Even Martin had been stunned by the news.
He would stay for another quarter hour and then take his leave. Fortunately his hunting lodge was nearby, and he could while away the rest of the evening with some brandy, in front of a roaring fire, plotting how to proceed next.
He had not anticipated being Martin's first matchmaking failure. Still, as much as he regretted losing his wits by participating in this scheme, he was even more rueful that he had placed any hope in its success.
Lorelei Collins made her way through the crowded ballroom, doing her best to memorize every detail, from the decorations and the music, to the guests merrily dancing with each other. Her sister Beatrice had planned to attend, a rare outing since her sister had two small children to care for, as well as a husband off fighting the wars. Unfortunately, the poor thing had come down with a terrible cold. Lorelei had insisted she could not possibly attend without her, but Beatrice had been twice as insistent that hearing about the revelries would surely speed her recovery.
It had been a long while since Lorelei had attended a Christmas masquerade, so it was not difficult to acquiesce to her sister's demands.
Lorelei halted for a moment, grinning as she watched Martin making his way down the line of dancers. He was a handsome man, and cut quite a fine figure, as evidenced by all the wistful female glances thrown his direction.
She would have to find him later and thank him for the invitation. She turned to continue her stroll around the room, but just then a young woman stopped her, pressing a card into her hand.
"I will not be needing this now. You should go in my place."
"What do you mean?" Lorelei glanced at the card, which was torn in half and outlined in red, engraved with the phrase, "Meet me at the mistletoe".
"I was supposed to meet a gentleman, but I've found the most wonderful one on my own!"
Before Lorelei could respond, the young woman darted off with her new suitor, both of them clearly bursting with happiness.
Lorelei felt a pang of envy. She missed that feeling of falling in love, when everything was still filled with promise and possibility…
Why not steal a few kisses under the mistletoe? She could do it anonymously, with the gentleman not aware of who she was. Indeed, she could pretend she was the one he was supposed to meet. Afterwards, she would return to her normal existence, with no one the wiser. She had experienced numerous adventures the past two years as a widow, and was never reluctant to have another.
This would be a perfect way to spend the evening.
She tightened the ribbons of her mask and began to search for this mystery man in earnest. There was a multitude of mistletoe throughout the overheated ballroom. How was she supposed to find the one man waiting for the woman she was pretending to be?
A good many of the mistletoe bunches were occupied by couples, surreptitiously kissing, taking a berry from the mistletoe each time. It was easy to rule them out as potential mystery men. Presumably he would have a card, the other half to hers, so she kept her attention on that aspect.
After another turn around the room, she began to wonder if she had been sent on a fool's errand.
All of a sudden, she saw a tall gentleman underneath a large cluster of mistletoe. How had she missed him before? He had chestnut hair, rakishly long, and an elegant mien. He was perusing the crowd but seemed disenchanted, and Lorelei wondered why. He began to tap a card against one hand—a card torn in half and edged in red.
Her heart thumped with excitement.
She stepped forward, eager to meet her mystery man. She could only imagine what kissing him might be like. The thought made her lose her footing for just a moment. She laughed at her clumsiness but her mirth instantly turned to dismay.
Another woman had swooped in to flirt with him!
Chapter Two
"Good evening," a woman's voice said. "Are you awaiting someone?"
Desmond had just been about to leave, but he turned, hopeful once more. He gave the young woman his full attention—a lovely figure, a smile that seemed genuine, yet her gaze behind the mask seemed a bit avaricious. He dropped his gaze to her gloved hands.
There was no card.